To Make an End is to Make a Beginning
by MorpheusDreams
Summary: COE Spoilers. Determined to get off world, but without his wrist-strap, Jack makes a call to an old friend. Xover with Stargate SG-1. You know Jack knows all about the Stargate program, and you know he's tried to get into O'Neill's pants.


To Make an End is to make a Beginning

Jack's hand hovered over the telephone, shaking just slightly. He closed his eyes and sighed resolutely as he plucked the phone from its cradle and dialed the long string of numbers by rote. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk in impatience as he listened to the international ring. He was almost ready to give up when a voice he hadn't heard in years barked through the receiver.

"This had better be good; you're calling during a game."

Jack chuckled in spite of himself. "O'Neill? Harkness."

"Ah, crap! You never call unless something's wrong Harkness. What is it this time? You didn't lose your boy again did you?"

Jack sucked in a breath at the pain that blossomed in his chest. He tried to answer, but could only voice a strangled sob.

"Shit, Jack"

Jack could hear muffled scratching as a palm was placed over the phone. He could hear his friend yelling for someone to turn off the television.

"When?" Was all that the Colonel asked when he spoke again.

Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. "Six months ago."

"What happened?"

"The 456 happened."

"What?"

"Where were you six months ago?" Jack's voice shook. "Don't you know about the 456?"

"I was off world briefly. Damn Air Force won't let me really retire." Jack sighed. "I read the reports about the 456, but as I understood there was minimal collateral damage."

"Minimal…" Jack's voice was flat and heavy. "…yeah." Jack couldn't hold back the sob that broke free this time. "I…Ianto…Stephen…Oh, god…Jack it was my fault; every fucking thing that happened was my fault. I started it all."

"Jack? Jack?" O'Neill tried to get Jack to respond. "Harkness, what the hell happened?"

"I can't. Jack I've lost everything. This planet is too small, everything is too close. You're the only one I know who can get me off this rock besides the Doctor, and he's not answering me at he moment. I need you to get me off planet Jack. Please."

"It's not like you to run Jack. Tell me what happened."

"They were here before…the 456. They came in the sixties; the Crown authorized Torchwood to give them 12 children. They made me do it because I didn't care. I gave them 12 children, and they used them as a drug. I opened a drug trade with an alien race, and they came back and wanted more."

He knew, but he also knew Jack needed to talk. "How many more, Jack?"

"Millions. They wanted us to hand over 10 percent of the children of the world. They almost got them too."

"Jack did you give the order?"

"What?"

"In the sixties, did you give the order to hand over the children?"

"No."

"Then how is what's happened your fault?"

"Jack weren't you listening. I didn't care. I didn't look for other options, didn't tell Torchwood 'no'. I gave the 456 twelve children, and look at the price I've had to pay."

"Jack, I want you to tell me what happened."

"I fucked up. I fucked up and it cost me Ianto and my grandson…Alice - my daughter won't speak to me. If I stay I'll get Gwen killed, and she's pregnant."

O'Neill sighed in frustration. Damn Harkness could be so difficult sometimes. He straightened his spine and became General O'Neill. "Captain Harkness! Sit Rep! Now!"

That did it; Jack sat back and followed orders. He gave O'Neill his report in a cool detached tone, stumbling slightly at the point in which he had to report the deaths of Ianto and Stephen. When he finished the silence on the other end of the line was palpable.

O'Neill swiped at the tears in his eyes. He'd had missions go south before, but this was too much. "Aw hell, Jack," he swore finally. "I'd wanna get out of dodge for a while too, but you have responsibilities. What about Torchwood? What about that damn Rift? Who's gonna watch that thing?"

"There is no Torchwood right now, not really. The Hub was completely destroyed by the bomb. We built a makeshift command center in a warehouse in London, but I don't know what's happened to it." Jack sighed. "UNIT has wanted control of Torchwood for a long time. If they can wrestle it out of Gwen's hands they can have it, but somehow I don't think they will. She's more than capable of leading Torchwood, probably better than I ever could. I never should have had it in the first place, but there was no one after Alex." Jack paused, and finally admitted to his friend what this latest experience had taught him. "I'm a soldier Jack, if I'm given orders, I'll follow them happily to a T, but I'm not a commander. I should never have been given Torchwood, look what I've done with it."

O'Neill was silent for a long time, knowing that Jack's admission had cost him dearly. "What will you do?"

"Travel; maybe try to find a way to get back to my own time, maybe not. I'd try to forget, but I promised that I wouldn't."

"Will you ever come home?"

Jack sighed into the receiver. "Alice and Stephen were what made this planet home. Ianto and I were just beginning to build something that would have been worth staying for, but that's all gone now. I don't have a home anymore Jack." He was silent for a moment before speaking again. "I need to go. Can you help me?"

"Yeah," O'Neill knew there was no arguing with his friend. "Yeah, I can get you off world. The Daedalus is due home next week and her skipper owes me a favor or two. You'll be able to hitch a ride out to Pegasus. I'll give you coordinates for a pick up on the outskirts of Cardiff; you just need to figure out how to signal that you're ready."

Jack sighed with relief. "Thanks. I appreciate this Jack, really I do."

"Do me a favor Harkness."

"What's that Jack."

"I know how you're going through right now. I've been in a similar situation, so take it from someone who knows what you're feeling right now. This wasn't entirely your fault; don't let your grief get the best of you."

A bitter laugh escaped from Jack before he could control it. "That's bullshit O'Neill. You didn't kill Charlie.

You didn't pull the trigger." He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. "I lead my lover into a combat situation blind and got him killed, and I wrote and initiated the program that used my own flesh and blood as a conduit to fight the 456 knowing full well that I'd be killing him. There's nothing left. I've sacrificed so much already, died so many times in defense of this backward little planet. I have nothing left to give."

"Jack…"

"I can't talk about this anymore Jack. Where should I meet The Daedalus?"

"That hill – the one where you met Cam and Daniel – when they were searching for all that Ancient Arthurian crap."

"Yeah, okay. Tell them Thursday evening. I'll be there. Thanks Jack, I'd say I owe you one, but…"

"Hey, Harkness?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

Jack was startled. "What?"

"No one thanked you, did they?"

"Don't," Jack breathed. "Just…" He swallowed hard. "I have to go Jack; I'll be at the Caer on Thursday." Jack slammed the phone back into its cradle.

He had five days: five more days of the hell that this little planet had become for him before he could run.


End file.
